Chapter 17
Morgan
It’s been five long weeks since the day I had a mental breakdown in the dining hall. Life has been a tad bit easier, knowing that I’ll be home for fall break soon and I’ll finally deal with Alex. I refused to drive home again before this, praying that this would be enough time for Alex’s body to recuperate.
Though the weight on me is lighter, it’s not completely gone. It’s really tempered my mood at random times.
Nate lets me get by with my occasional attitude, but two weeks ago, Jen called me out on it. I’m getting worse and worse, apparently.
She told me to pack my bags and move the fuck out of Limbo Town. I told her I was trying, but I didn’t have much to work with at the time to get out of the funk I’d fallen into. In classic Jen fashion, she reminded me that growing balls was helpful.
A week after Alex got home, he finally started answering my phone calls. Speaking to him was depressing and I could barely keep up a chipper front.
Magically, this week he sounds light years better. I don’t know what changed, but each time we have spoken, he sounds a little more upbeat. I’m hopeful that he’s finally in a good place. I want him to be in a good place when we have the talk.
Nate hasn’t brought it up at all. Instead, he lets me relay information and updates on Alex’s health. He hasn’t been pushy or nosy, which surprises me.
If it were me, I’d be pestering him like crazy. But I’m a spaztard and he’s flawless, so duh.
I’ve caught myself multiple times staring at his lips, especially when we’re alone. I think he notices, too, because he always puts a little more space between us when I do it. It makes me want to smack him.
I don’t do it on purpose. It’s like we’re magnets and involuntarily lean towards one another, no matter what we’re doing. The closer he is, more drawn to him I am.
Last night, I almost said fuck it just so I could crawl in his lap and go for a ride. It doesn’t help that I’m frustrated beyond measure in the sex department.
I’m having trouble concentrating on Dr. Wang’s lecture today. He’s supposed to pass back our midterms before we leave and I’m worried about my grade—one more thing on the list of potential disasters to worry about.
Nate helped me study, and I did feel prepared when I took it. But it was an essay exam, so that leaves a lot of room for mistakes.
I avoid eye contact with Nate during class most days. He’s an easy distraction and I can’t afford to be distracted in here. I can feel his stare as I wait for the verdict on my performance to be placed on my desk.
When Dr. Wang hands back my exam, I deflate. C+ is written in red pen at the top. Why must they make it look like it’s written in blood? After I worked so hard I think I deserve to not bleed.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. Getting my hopes up only makes me feel worse when I don’t perform to the impossible standard I set for myself. So much for Nate rubbing off on me.
Wang dismisses us and I slowly stand. I put my bag over my shoulder, and walk while flipping through the pages of my exam. Of course, I walk right into Nate because I’m not watching where I’m going.
“How’d you do?” he asks.
“Not great,” I reply, tilting the papers so he can’t see.
“Did you fail?”
“No, asshole, I didn’t fail,” I snap.
I might not have his smarts, but I’m not without skill. How dare he think I flunked!
“I didn’t think you did. But you look like you’re upset, so I asked.”
“I’m not upset,” I insist, a little too forcefully.
“Obviously.”
He’s grinning, so I know he’s trying to make a joke. But I don’t feel like joking right now. I’m pissed and disappointed in myself. Add it to the pile of anxiety and distress. It seems to be the running theme of my life.
I also happen to be in the middle of P.M.S. overload, so that’s helpful. Plus, I want more orgasms from Nate but I’m not allowed to have them. It’s not okay to give to me so generously and then take it away.
“Let me see.”
He makes a grab for the test and I pull it back. Nate’s faster and easily takes it from me. I try to snatch it back, but he turns his massive body and my arms are too short to reach around him.
“Damnit, Nate. Give it back.”
Nate grunts, but doesn’t do as I command. I’m no match for Sasquatch so I stop my efforts and wait. If he tries to give me the correct answers I’ll hit him upside his big ol’ head.
“Your essay is good, Morgan.”
“Oh, shut it. Then how did I get a C+, genius?”
Nate turns and holds the paper up, pointing. I look and see it’s the very back page. There are six multiple choice questions and four short answer.
“You left the last page blank, Morgan. You got full credit on the essay.”
I seize the paper from him, quickly scanning the essay, looking for red pen. All the comments are positive feedback. I earned a score of 100% on the essay portion.
I flip it to the back page; the one I didn’t even notice and groan. I know the answers to these questions. If I hadn’t been so focused on the essay prompt, I would have seen the back page.
How in the hell did I miss an entire page? Once again, I want to punch myself in the face for my stupidity.
“I cannot believe I did that.”
“You should set up a meeting with Dr. Wang, I’m sure he’ll—”
“No, I’ve seen the questions now. There’s no way I can go back and answer them and have him think I didn’t look them up.”
“But you should still tell him. He might give you a chance to make up some points. Do you want me to say something?”
My peepers about jump out of my skull. “Uh, no, Nate. I do not want you to go talk to the professor for me. I’m not twelve. And I already have a father, thank you very much.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Because I don’t need you to rescue me! I don’t need that. I’m a big girl. I take care of my own shit.” My voice is way too loud.
Nate scratches his head. I’m not sure I want to know what he’s thinking.
“I’m just trying to help, Morgan. It was an honest mistake.”
“What was an honest mistake? Me leaving a page blank or you trying to help me?”
That’s it. I’ve gone off the deep end and now he knows I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. And I obviously can’t take care of my own shit. I just can’t afford to let anyone see, especially him.
“It appears the answer is both.”
I drop my head, ashamed. I don’t know why I’m lashing out at him like this. Is this what projection is? Pushing my issues with myself onto others? I’ll have to ask Jen. I’m sure she’d love to psychoanalyze me.
“I’m going to go spend the afternoon writing. I need to finish up the book by the end of fall break, so I’ve only got about twelve days.”
I nod, still looking at my feet. He’s cancelling lunch with me. It’s just as well.
“Nate—”
“Morgan, it’s fine. I wasn’t going to say anything, but that was a mistake. The closer we get to break, the more uptight you’ve become. A major situation in your life is getting ready to come to a head. I’m trying to work with you here.”
Mr. Observant strikes again. Does he have to be so compassionate to boot? Show me some flaws, Nate.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, I lift my head.
“I understand. Okay?”
I nod.
Nate reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’ll text you later,” he says and then he’s gone.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and trudge back to my room to wrap up some things before my next class. I force my brain to focus on seminar and write down every word I can.
After class, I head to the athletic center where I’m working the front desk until 8:00 p.m. When I finally get home for the night, I check my phone. Nate never texted. I guess I found his first flaw.